


Baseball

by beeswaxing



Series: Trophy Wife [15]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 23:49:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12493660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeswaxing/pseuds/beeswaxing
Summary: Changmin is not one for playing games, but some games, when played right, results in two winners.





	Baseball

**Author's Note:**

> Hahahahahaha Changmin can’t stay away from baseball so who am I to ignore his call? :P Fuck though seriously…fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkk Yunho is so hot I almost didn’t finish this cos I was just fufvhvdhfvuahhjdhfkhadgthjs! So sorry, I don’t think I was coherent writing this cos I made the “banner” before actually writing and staring at Yunho like that just sucked everything out of me… Plus his gorgeous supermodel wife…

 

 

Changmin studies the array of snacks in the town car, contemplating the meagre selection when his phone rings, answering it when he realizes instead of being spoiled for choice as he normally is, he does not have much in the way of choices this time.

“What happened to my wasabi peas?”

“Hello to you too.” Yunho chuckles at his wife who merely grunts in his ear.

“Where are my peas?”

“Which car are you in?”

“Yours…ah fuck.”

“Language, Changmin-ah,” Yunho murmurs, gazing down the board table at the bent heads intently studying the documents his secretary has just distributed.

“Why didn’t you just let Jae and Micky go to the airport in their own motherfucking town instead of my fucking town car you annoying shithead? I’ve been thinking about my goddamn peas since Jaejoong woke us up at the ass crack of dawn to triple check that we really weren’t going with them on this _last road trip_. Fucking drama queen. Last road trip? The second Louis Vuitton releases something new, they’ll be on the first flight out, nine months pregnant or not.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I don’t think Micky knows how to say no to his wife, even if the man is being totally and utterly irrational. He promised to get him mangosteens yesterday. They’re completely out of season.”

“He got them,” Changmin answers shortly, remembering Jaejoong chirruping happily about them last night.

“Really?” Yunho leans back in his leather chair, toeing away from the table slightly as he turns his gaze out the floor to ceiling windows at gorgeous view of the Han River.

“Yes, _really_ ,” the teenager replies somewhat mockingly. “Unlike mine, Jae’s husband cares about his pregnant wife’s cravings. Mine doesn’t care that I’m pregnant with his twins and sitting here and dying over my _simple_ need for wasabi peas compared to exotic fruit no one’s even heard of. My useless husband doesn’t give a flying fuck. Imagine if I’d asked you for durian chips instead of something so easily available like fucking wasabi peas? I should’ve married Micky instead.“

Yunho’s laughter is shocked at his wife’s rant, and its almost derisive, his tone showing his utter dismissiveness at the mere thought of Changmin marrying Micky, briefly wondering who the real drama queen is. “He can’t deal with you either.”

“And you can, old man?” The challenge is there as the teenager bristles at his husband’s tone.

“You know I can.”

“Fuck you.”

“Feel better?”

“I’d feel better with my wasabi peas. Can you get some from that shop on your way to the game? I don’t want any old brand. I want _that_ particular brand. Don’t buy the wrong thing.”

“About that…” Yunho winces, knowing full well he is about to make his wife unhappier than he already is.

Changmin stiffens, straightening in the plush leather, gripping his phone tightly, recognizing the tone for he has heard it one too many times already. His words are quiet, but there is no mistaking the frustration. “Don’t you dare, old man. Don’t you fucking dare. This is the fourth time this month, you have got to be shitting me. You are not doing this to me again!”

“I’m sorry, Changdola.” Yunho stands, nodding towards his lawyer to take over briefly as he leaves the boardroom table, walking to a corner of the room and gazing out the window at the city down below. “The negotiations stalled and we had to draft a few additional clauses that we need to hammer out.”

“Then leave it for another day, or get someone else to do it. I don’t fucking understand why you have to be involved in this. You are buying the stupid company to save it from receivership. Why the ever loving fuck are they calling the shots when they’re the beggars here? This is bullshit.” His words are biting, anger creeping into it as they are wont to do when things that ought to go his way, do not, because of what he deems to be illogical reasons.

“You know I can’t do that. We’re on a deadline and the permit runs out tomorrow. We have to come to an agreement today and old man Lee won’t talk to anyone but me. He has his pride, and he’s been a mentor for many of my peers so I have to accord him the respect he deserves. Come on, Changdola…be reasonable, love. I’ll make it up to you. I’ve already called ahead. There’s a surprise waiting for you.”

Changmin closes his eyes, willing himself to calm down. He can feel the babies moving, as if sensing his agitation, little flutters within him that serve to soothe his irritation with his husband slowly but surely. You’d think the man would’ve learned by now, right? But then again, he is an old dog and while Changmin is certain he is teachable, it will still take awhile.

“Does the surprise involve wasabi peas?” Changmin is nothing if not single-minded when it comes to his food.

Yunho chuckle is heartfelt, holding the phone tightly to his ear as he pushes his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose. “You really have bad cravings, don’t you, love? I’ll call the stadium manager and tell him about your peas. I promise you’ll have a full supply of them after you throw the first pitch.”

Changmin who’d been meditating to himself, chokes on nothing as his eyes fly open. “What? What did you say?”

Yunho smirks, pulling off his glasses and perching them on his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as he keeps talking to his wife. “I said, I’ll call the stadium manager and tell him to make sure you have your peas.” He then pauses deliberately, waiting for the explosion.

“Stop fucking with me, Jung Yunho.”

“Our kids really are going to come out swearing like sailors. Your mouth is impossible,” the Jung CEO marvels, still stalling because in all honesty, he likes every part of Changmin, filthy mouth especially. “Is it possible for you to say anything without throwing in a swear or two?”

“I am this close to throwing your Hermes bracelet out the window. While I know you can buy another dozen, you cannot buy another matched pair because this was a one-off custom made that we designed together. I hate couple stuff, but I’m wearing your bracelet because it makes you happy. I know you got them because my wedding ring doesn’t fit my fat fingers now and you needed _something_ to show the world that I belong to you, and I’m fine with that. However, I’m more than willing to strut into that stadium with it off, showing a little skin or more, and give the bored tabloid reporters something to talk about because god forbid Jung Yunho’s pregnant trophy wife appear in public without his wedding ring or bracelet. Oh, and don’t forget, I’m going to be _alone_. What was it they said last time? Is the Jung about to get junked? Now, are you going to stop messing with me or do I really have to throw it out the window?”

Changmin’s tirade had been measured, recited so calmly he might as well be reading the phone book.

And best of all, not a single swear to be heard.

Yunho knows he isn’t serious, the teenager merely making a point, and he certainly has his attention.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Is that a dare? Don’t forget, I’m still a teenager who apparently doesn’t know any better,” Changmin brushes invisible lint from his jeans.

“Changmin-ah.”

The teenager rolls his eyes at the tone. “Yes, ahjusshi?”

Yunho winces at the word, clearing his throat, deciding that he’s done with the games. He’ll let Changmin win this round because god knows he owes the teenager.

“Point made, love. Sheathe your claws, ok? You’re throwing the first pitch of the game today. Remember when we went to our first baseball game together and you mentioned that you wished you could throw a pitch? I’m your genie in a bottle.”

Changmin, shocked at first that Yunho even remembered that since they weren’t even married when they’d gone to that baseball game, is totally sidetracked by his spouse’s end remark. “Oh god, that is so fucking corny!”

“Made you smile, didn’t it?”

Changmin’s mouth quirks as he tries to wrestle with the predicted smile, forcing it into submission.

“Do I have to rub you the right way?” he asks lightly, rolling his eyes, continuing his fruitless searchh of the car’s interior for wasabi peas. So far he’s found lube, and more lube.

Figures. It is Yunho’s car after all.

Yunho’s burst of laughter causes more than a few heads to turn towards him. The enigmatic head of Jung Group is feared, revered and respected by those who work for him. Many had misgivings when he married the very young supermodel Shim Changmin, but they do appear to be well suited. The young man is the perfect trophy wife, increasing the admiration towards his husband, adept at making conversation and skilled in the subtle nuances of high society. His towering height, even taller than Jung Yunho himself is not a detriment to the businessman but rather an asset. The statuesque former model can be seen from a distance, his presence felt when standing alone for the former supermodel isn’t by any means a wallflower.

However, the true asset of his supermodel charisma is that the young Jung Changmin knows how to suppress it when next to his husband. He never ever competes for attention, lending his own considerable influence to Jung Yunho whether needed or not. Changmin doesn’t distract with his beauty unlike his best friend Park Jaejoong whose presence sometimes causes people to forget about Micky’s existence which to be fair, is not really the blond supermodel’s fault.

Changmin melds any presence he has seamlessly with his husband and as a couple, increases their consequence.

Watching the couple walk in together to any event will cause heads to turn.

The very charismatic Jung Yunho who greets everyone with a disarming smile, putting people at ease with good natured banter, his power leashed for the moment depending on the setting they are in. Juxtaposing him is the silent counterpoint of his trophy wife who only speaks when spoken to, his replies usually at the bare minimum, though almost always deftly deflecting the topic back to the subject of Jung Yunho or inserting his husband into the conversation somehow. The trophy wife whose handsome beauty is breathtaking to behold especially up close, standing haughty and aloof next to his more congenial other half.

Their interaction is captivating to witness for Jung Yunho and Jung Changmin converse in silence. Many have seen the supermodel shooting a glance at his older husband and the returning smirk he gets makes people wonder what it is the unflappable supermodel has been told as his cheeks color oh so very slightly. The communication works in a few ways especially in particularly arduous company. Jung Yunho and his wife can appear to have entire conversations with their eyes as the people around them bore both of them to near death with their inane chatter.

Jung Yunho however, always remains unfailingly polite and attentive.

His wife’s attention wanders, but Changmin almost never does anything to jeopardize his husband’s reputation.

What causes more than a few snickers within their social circle is that when attending an event together, Jung Changmin has on more than one occasion appeared lost without his husband. He is completely fine when attending anything alone, but if they arrive as a couple, the second Yunho ducks out into the garden or balcony for a smoke or even the bathroom or some such place like that and fails to inform his wife, the supermodel starts looking his age.

A teenager playing in the big leagues and mingling with people he doesn’t know or care to know.

He is only there because of his husband, and without the man in the vicinity, he reverts back to being a teenager.

The supermodel training kicks in of course, and the “lost” look only appears briefly, usually quickly tamped down and the haughty, cooly disinterested expression comes back. That expression doesn’t smooth out to something more approachable until his husband reappears.

Jung Yunho is almost as bad, though for him, it’s more of the fact that he doesn’t particularly like when people get too close to his wife. _Possessive_ ought to be the Jung Group CEO’s middle name for he displays it with alarming alacrity, everyone else be damned.

He will cut in smoothly when the crowd around his beautiful wife gets a little too attentive for his liking.

He will even remove hands from his wife’s body should it become necessary, whether the culprits are male or female.

He has been known to whisk his gorgeous wife away altogether when the attention from anyone gets a little too marked, whether the event is over or not.

How he ever survived the fact that his wife used to be a supermodel is anyone’s guess. Jung Yunho does not like to share, and Changmin truly is the one person who can distract him from anything he is currently doing.

More than a few whispers are going round the boardroom table as they watch the back of the man who owns almost half of the manufacturing assets in South Korea, and who is about to acquire another one.

Only his wife will ever cause Jung Yunho to walk away from a meeting.

Instead of thinking the CEO as rude, _old man Lee_ is more than a little impressed by this fact. He was at their wedding of course, but had been more than a little disappointed that Jung Yunho had succumbed to the trend of buying a pretty young wife. He genuinely likes and admires Yunho and had wanted the man to find a partner equal to him, and able to sustain him emotionally. The cold young supermodel who’d wed Jung Yunho on that day almost two years ago was not someone he’d have picked for the businessman.

_Gold digger_ was the whisper going round that day.

However his hearing is still much better than anyone thinks, and he can hear the new whispers going round the table.

_”Changdola? Their marriage has progressed so much?”_

_“I think it’s because Changmin-ssi is pregnant.”_

_“So do you think they’ve finally admitted it? Everyone can see it except them.”_

_“How have you not heard about the infamous, **my wife always comes first** line? Where have you been?”_

_“Didn’t that happen a few months ago? What’s he doing here now? Has he forgotten?”_

_“Perhaps. Maybe he’s forgetting last month when Changmin-ssi disappeared. Everyone knew something was wrong when he actually came to work unshaven, unshowered, and smelling like old whiskey.”_

_“Was about time. I was rooting for Changmin-ssi to bring the great Jung Yunho to heel. He’s a good man, but really too smug about his wife.”_

_“I really don’t think this is the place to discuss Jung Yunho-ssi’s marriage!”_

Unaware of the inappropriate whispered conversations going round the boardroom table among his senior executives, Yunho traces out Changmin’s name on the window as he is teased by his wife.

“You’re doing that on purpose aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” Changmin answers shortly as he lets out a final disgusted huff at the meagre contents of his husband’s car, and leans back against the plush leather and contemplates the scenery outside the window as the car takes him to the game.

“Come on, baby. Don’t be mad at me.” Yunho tries cajoling.

“Not mad.”

Yunho chuckles, not believing it for a second. “Yes, you are.”

“Stop telling me what I am or am not.”

“Huffy, my baby is huffy.”

“Your babies are asleep. Don’t fucking call me baby.”

“Baby,” Yunho replies unrepentantly, mouth quirked into a grin.

Changmin has been playing with a thought for a couple of minutes, and he finally decides to act on it. He lets out an exaggerated long-suffering sigh before speaking. “You are old and addled if you can’t even understand a simple request. I’m going to make another request and if you truly want to make me happy, you’d do it.”

Yunho straightens, palming the glass now as he looks out in the direction of the stadium, wondering if it truly will be possible for him to leave the meeting early to join his wife for the game. What he told his wife about old man Lee refusing to talk to anyone but him is true, but the man is in no position to bargain for anything and they both know it. Yunho is only there out of respect. He doesn’t have to be there, but he feels like he should be there. He is taking this man’s livelihood. He is taking a company that old man Lee has build from ground up practically with his bare hands, and the only reason he is losing it is because of his incompetent children and grandchildren. Yunho doesn’t want to do this, but the business has so much potential, and failing so badly despite that. He had no real alternative for he trusts nobody in that company to do anything for the benefit of the company rather than themselves.

The only way to be certain is to do it himself. To put in his own people, and to make it work.

He will do this, but he will do it in the best way possible in order to allow old man Lee to leave with his head held high.

It’s the least he can do for the man, right?

But Yunho has other priorities now.

He wants to be a good husband.

He wants to be a good father.

Being a good businessman…that can take a back seat.

“Watch the game.”

“Ok,” Yunho answers immediately, pushing away from the window as he turns on his heel to walk back to the boardroom table, before he stops short, brow furrowing deeply as he replays his wife’s request. “Wait, what?”

“Watch the game, old man. You’ve got a television in your board room. Just put it on mute or something. Since you can’t come to me, you can at least watch the game with me even if you’re several miles away.”

“You don’t want me to come to the game?”

“Of course I do, but I won’t ask you to. I know you have to work. I’m not unreasonable, Jung Yunho,” Changmin replies matter of factly. He has calmed down since his initial disappointment at Yunho not attending. He is nothing if not logical and Yunho’s explanation suffices for him. However, he is interested to see if Yunho’s reasons are truly as strong as he made them out to be.

The disappointment Yunho feels is a rather strange feeling. Changmin isn’t acting out of the ordinary. He always puts Yunho’s needs before his, though he does complain about it endlessly at times. Even after their confessions, and the teenager knows full well that Yunho will try his best to give him everything, Changmin doesn’t ask.

He can, but he doesn’t.

He doesn’t have to.

Yunho will give it to him anyway.

Somehow, someway, it will happen.

Though at the back of his mind, he wonders if Changmin doesn’t ask because he’s afraid he’ll say no.

“So you just want me to watch the game?”

“Yes,” Changmin replies quietly as he fiddles with his bracelet. He wants so badly to ask Yunho to come to the game anyway, but he doesn’t. The answer to that isn’t certain. He is not one to play games, but he needs to take a leaf out of Jaejoong’s notebook on how to manage stupid ahjusshi husbands here. He only has certainty in one thing, and he is depending on that.

It’s about time he acts a little out of character too anyway.

—

“Your wife is beautiful, Yunho-ssi. Pregnancy suits him.” Old man Lee is the first to speak as everyone’s eyes are glued to the baseball game about to start.

Jung Yunho had asked the indulgence of everyone, and old man Lee in particular was more than happy to acquiesce to the request. A baseball fan himself, the idea of working and watching the game appeals to the old businessman in the twilight of his years.

“Thank you,” Yunho murmurs in reply, not saying anything when old man Lee turns up the volume on the television. His eyes are slightly narrowed on the mascot whose arm is flung oh so casually around his wife’s shoulders as they walk to the middle of the field. The mascot is walking too fast, and he can see Changmin’s long legs eating up the ground beside him but only he can tell that his wife isn’t comfortable about the speed. The teenager is smiling and waving, and looking beautifully flushed from the excitement, and his happiness makes Yunho smile.

_”Getting ready to throw the first pitch is someone who may be recognized by you but not in his present state. Supermodel Jung Changmin hasn’t been in the limelight lately and we can all see why. How far along do you think he is?_

_A female voice chimes in then, excitement lacing her every word. “It’s hard to tell. We’ve never seen him wearing clothes this figure hugging in a while so I’d say anything between five to seven months. What I’m more surprised about is the fact that he’s stepping out alone. Where is his husband?”_

_“A good question indeed. However, I doubt there’s trouble in paradise since he’s looking extremely happy. Look, he’s about to speak. Let’s see whether he mentions his missing husband.”_

_“I would bet on it. This is Jung Changmin after all. You could be discussing the weather and he’d bring in Jung Yunho somehow.”_

Everyone sneaks a glance at Yunho at some point during the commentary. The man is wearing an unreadable expression on his face, and everyone stays silent, half eager, half wary as to what their boss’ wife is going to say.

Changmin can feel his babies fluttering around excitedly within his body. He is more than certain now that they can feel what he feels, and they can feel his anxiety.

Yunho is amazing for organizing this for him, but now that he’s standing in front of this massive crowd, on this huge pitch, he is a little upset that Yunho isn’t actually there with him to witness it. He is only upset with himself though for choosing to play a game rather than taking a chance and asking his husband to join him.

He clears his throat, willing his hand not to shake as he smiles at the people around him before pulling the microphone being held for him closer to his mouth.

“Hello everyone, I’m Jung Changmin.”

The roar in response from the crowd startles him, but his expression doesn’t show it as he smiles and continues his greetings. He is speaking simple platitudes, but his smile is genuine.

Yunho is mirroring as he watches his teenaged wife with that rare eye smile that very few get to see. The fact that he’s smiling on national tv is a non-issue. Yunho is happy that his wife is happy.

“I’m supporting LG Twins today, because I thought it rather appropriate,” Changmin finishes with a grin as he pats his rounded belly, smirking slightly as the crowd roars again at his words. “Enjoy the game everyone!”

Unbeknownst to him, there is also a lot of noise about him in his husband’s boardroom.

“Twins? Changmin-ssi is carrying twins? Congratulations, Sir!”

And the congratulations pour in, drowning out the television for a moment.

No one but Yunho hears the commentator.

_”You lost that bet. He didn’t mention his husband.”_

—

Yunho isn’t paying attention.

He stopped paying attention about an hour ago.

There’s a buzzing in his head that is making his eyelid twitch irritatingly, and it has nothing to do with the discussion going on in his boardroom.

Most of the issues have been agreed upon and he knows that old man Lee is pushing on certain points just to see how far he can go. Yunho doesn’t mind indulging the man, because the concessions are a nuisance at best and it seems to invigorate the old businessman to be able to actively engage in such negotiations.

He has one ear on his lawyer speaking in a rather exasperated manner to old man Lee while the other ear is trained on the live commentary of the baseball game he is watching.

Correction.

That everyone is watching, but pretending not to.

It’s not as if the game is interesting. It’s had its moments but they are few and far between.

Even the commentators have given up on the game, much more interested in unsolicited commentary on things that have absolutely nothing to do with them.

Namely, a certain long-legged beauty named Jung Changmin.

Everyone had been none-the-wiser.

Yunho had shrugged when someone commented on Changmin no longer wearing the Twins jersey.

The typical praises come in. Perhaps most are sincere, others are just lip service to the boss.

_”Changmin-ssi is so handsome.”_

_“He looks good in anything.”_

_“Is he still modeling? He should still model. You can barely notice his pregnancy.”_

_“Not many people can pull off denim, but he really looks amazing, Sir.”_

And it went on for a few minutes, everyone eager to comment on Changmin’s new attire.

Yunho is used to his wife changing multiple times a day. Sometimes, he sees Changmin in at least five different outfits depending on what his wife is doing.

There’s the _“making” breakfast in the kitchen_ outfit which is Yunho’s personal favorite. Changmin wears boxers and maybe one of Yunho’s shirts. Most of the time it’s just boxers. Lately, he couples it with an oversized teeshirt. It makes the teenager look very young and cuddly, and Yunho definitely likes cuddling his gorgeous young and dare he say, domesticated wife, much to Changmin’s irritation because apparently it’s rather difficult to stir bean sprout soup when there’s a great weight hanging off his back trying to push his belly into the stove.

And then there’s the _meeting Jae for brunch_ outfit which basically means looking as fabulous as humanly possible. This is mainly Jaejoong’s fault according to Changmin, but Yunho knows better. His wife enjoys looking very well put together no matter the reason. Meeting Jaejoong is the best excuse to dress up the way a trophy wife should dress. Head to toe, Changmin will be in his own clothes, but looking every single inch the top supermodel he once was. Out of curiosity one day, Yunho had asked his wife to give an estimate as to how much he is worth from top to bottom.

Thirty-five million won.

Even Yunho had to admit that was really bloody excessive for a simple brunch date.

But Jung Changmin has to keep up appearances, and the competitive teenager is not about to be outdone by Park Jaejoong who probably dresses like that to go to the bathroom.

Then there’s the semi-casual _running errands_ look whose main purpose is to ensure that Changmin doesn’t get irritated by his clothes while out doing menial things like collecting the dry cleaning and grocery shopping. The difficulty of this outfit is that he still has to look presentable, for Jung Yunho’s wife cannot be running around in sweatpants and slippers. He has to balance comfort, and dressing with the off chance that he meets one of Yunho’s associates or their wives and they want to go for high tea or some such nonsense like that. Going home to change is apparently not the done thing. You must always be presentable enough to be allowed admittance to the swankiest of restaurants.

And of course there are the airport outfits. Changmin’s own personal runway as far as he’s concerned for this is where the reporters congregate and this is where Yunho sometimes feels like a homeless hobo next to his impeccably groomed and perfectly put together wife. Even in a simple pair of shorts and teeshirt, Changmin _struts_ through the airport with such aplomb, haughty and untouchable that he could be modeling clothes worth several million won as far as anyone watching is concerned. He plans his clothes for maximum impact and minimum fuss. A lot of layers are involved at times so he looks perfectly coiffed on the ground, but he can strip off all the hindrances on the flight. It’s an art to be sure and Yunho doesn’t bother asking anymore. His wife enjoys looking good, and he enjoys looking at his wife. Win-win for him.

Jung Changmin is a bit of a rebel though, and especially with his pregnancy, being comfortable is his number one priority now. If he’s out and about for his pleasure, he dresses however he wants. Expensive jeans with a non-designer top. Shorts and a simple teeshirt accessorized by designer sunglasses worth more than what some people get paid in a month. Torn jeans and a designer sweater during the cooler months, or, changing to suit the occasion.

In this case, going from jeans and a baseball jersey for the throwing of the first pitch, to…the shortest pair of fucking shorts Yunho has ever seen.

Shorter even than that black pair from that trip to Hong Kong.

Well, comparable to that pair anyway.

And the worst part of it all?

Yunho isn’t there to “protect” his wife’s modesty from the marauding horde.

Changmin is seated beside some man who has been captured leaning over to speak to his wife almost every single fucking time the camera pans to them. Yunho had already been a little aggravated over this fact.

However, his aggravation pushed right into aggression when someone hit a home run and his wife jumped up, along with the crowd, and caused the commentators to comment on something other than the home run.

_”Oh wow. Changmin-ssi hasn’t lost his supermodel figure has he? Look at those legs! How did he manage to hide them all this time?”_

_“Camera angle. Oh, look, the camera man has figured out the best angel. We can see him while seated now.”_

_“No wonder Cho Seung Heon has been so attentive. We did wonder why he always seemed to be whispering to Jung Changmin and I guess this might be part of the reason.”_

_“I wonder what Jung Yunho thinks of all this.”_

_“Well, word is that he’s working.”_

_“Working in the office while someone works on his wife?”_

_“That isn’t appropriate!”_

_“I know, I’m sorry everyone. It’s just very rare to see this particular wife out and about alone with his husband. Do you think there’s trouble between them?”_

A loud crack echoes around the boardroom, shocking everyone to silence as they stare at the scowling man at the head of the table. Pieces of what used to be a pencil lay in front of him as he pushes his chair back and stands.

Old man Lee is trying to hide his smirk as the younger man turns towards him.

“I’m sorry, but I have to take my leave of you. I trust that you will be pleased with the arrangements, and there won’t be any need for further discussions.”

There is a palpable warning in the words, though they were said with perfect politeness.

Jung Yunho has had enough.

“Of course, Yunho-ssi. You didn’t have to stay, you know? I can close things with Jiyong-ssi here. He’s been very good to me.”

Yunho’s mouth tightens, but he doesn’t respond. He bows to old man Lee, before barking out curt instructions to his lawyer and finance executives before turning and leaving.

Five people watch his departure with knowing smiles.

Old man Lee is the first to speak.

“I guess we’ll be seeing Yunho-ssi on the television in a few minutes.”

Even Yunho’s lawyer, Kwon Jiyong is shaking his head as he chuckles. “I’m actually surprised it took this long.”

“We shouldn’t be gossiping about the boss…” someone tries to halfheartedly intervene, but Jiyong is not just a lawyer but a friend, and he replies in kind.

“Hardly gossip. It’s a fact. His impulses are getting better though considering how he was like this even before they were married.”

“Truly?” old man Lee asks, a little surprised. “Young Changmin didn’t give me a very good impression when we were introduced on his wedding day. He was really cold and quite remote. I didn’t think Yunho-ssi was the type to go for the coldness. He seems like a man who needs a lot of warmth. It really takes something to catch a man like Jung Yunho and I cannot imagine him being possessive over a trinket.”

“He does like warmth,” Jiyong grins. “That boy is no trinket, and he breathes fire. I’m rather interested to see how this goes down.”

“Breathes fire you say? We don’t have anything further to discuss, do we?”

“Shall I tell Yunho-ssi that we concluded our discussions because you are far more interested in his marriage than how he does business?”

“When you get as old as me, you take whatever excitement in your life you can get.”

—

If Changmin were to check his phone, he’ll see that he has ten missed calls, all from his husband.

However, Changmin’s phone is conveniently switched off and in the town car.

The game is boring, but the company is engaging. He is having a really good time, despite Yunho not being there, and he’d mostly forgotten about his pique with his husband. His smiles and laughter are genuine, and his babies appear to have settled down for a nap or something for they are no longer fluttering within him. The calm is very welcome, but Changmin has forgotten one thing.

It is the calm before the artificial storm he had created and all but forgotten about.

—

Jiyong is looking through the final signed documents, making sure everything is in order when an exclamation opposite him causes him to look up.

The three executives had been dismissed earlier, and it is only himself and old man Lee left.

He turns to look at the television and shakes his head ruefully as the camera pans towards an unsmiling Jung Yunho making his way through the crowd. He is no longer wearing a suit, having changed into something more appropriate no doubt

“Why are there people following him?”

Jiyong shrugs, closing his document folder. “He’s turned into a bit of a celebrity. I’m not sure when it happened, possibly when he married Changmin-ssi actually.”

“Did someone just give him a baseball to sign?”

Jiyong narrows his eyes as he leans forward. He lets out a relieved sigh when he sees Yunho returning the baseball without signing anything.

The cameraman pans in that instant back to Changmin, and Jiyong lets out a very loud groan at the sight.

“Oh, shit.”

“I hope you were seriously about Yunho-ssi’s control of his impulses.”

Jiyong closes his eyes, mentally drafting a press junket just in case he needs to release one.

But really, how does anyone explain away the CEO of Jung Group punching some two-bit actor in the face for daring to touch his wife?

There is a murmur going round the stadium that appears to have no correlation whatsoever to whatever it is going on in the field. Changmin is mindful of the cameras that seem to be constantly pointed at him now, but he does not give them much to work on, not bothering to glance their way properly.

He raises his arms up, arching backwards, popping his belly out as he stretches noisily, exhaling in relief as all the cricks in his body fix themselves. The low moan he lets out is a little suggestive, but he is just too damn relaxed to care as he stretches out the muscles in his torso.

That is, till he realizes there is a hand on his belly, rubbing it a little too familiarly.

His eyes pop open, all the tension back in his body in an instant as he turns towards the hyung seated next to him.

“What are you doing?” Changmin’s voice is without inflection, nothing betraying his unhappiness at being touched so. It has happened more than a few times, as it is wont to do when people realize he is pregnant. Jaejoong is much more tolerant of random people touching his belly, at times even inviting it, but Changmin, not so much. Just last weekend he almost bit Heechul’s head off for rubbing his belly for longer than five seconds. That annoying man loves to tease just for the hell of it, and he had done it in full view of Yunho, possibly hoping for a raise out of the possessive man.

Fortunately for everyone involved, Yunho does not view crazy Heechul hyung as offering even the tiniest of threats.

The teenager’s mind is on the cameras pointing at them. This is a relatively well-known actor, and he is stuck. His reaction is governed by the fact that his husband is known, and he is a public figure of sorts, and anything that happens now is going to result in some sort of scandal or headline in the gossip magazines.

Changmin does not care to be a headline.

And he cares even less to be the reason for a scandal related to his husband.

It is pretty fucking hilarious that with such a powerful husband, he is left impotent to what is tantamount to molest.

All on live television no less.

The young man takes a deep breath, the movement pressing his belly against an unwanted hand, and his breath stutters slightly as he opens his eyes again.

The smile he gets back curls in an ugly manner to his eye, the hyung suddenly not appearing as nice as he did earlier.

Changmin feels a wash of anger, eyes narrowing as he speaks through gritted teeth, fighting madly the impulse to slug the man. He is pregnant, and in all honesty, his patience only goes about as far as he can throw a baseball and that is really not far at all judging by the sad little pitch he threw earlier that day.

“I’ve punched men for less than what you’re doing right now. Remove your hand.”

“I’m just being friendly. I thought you wanted to be friends?” the older man leers, leaning in further, his fingers now curving around the lower swell of Changmin’s belly, thumb against his bellybutton.

The supermodel’s body is long, and his babies are tightly compacted together despite that, so even at 25 weeks, his body is still not showing as much as most, which means the actor’s fingertips are dangerously close to his crotch.

The teenager opens his mouth to respond, his anger burning in his eyes for the man’s impudence, leaning back as far as he can without making it too obvious, hating that he feels so trapped by a myriad of things.

His position.

His husband’s position.

All the eyes on them right then.

But with all the hate, it is the love that wins and keeps him in check.

Changmin is Jung Yunho’s wife, and a certain type of behavior is expected of him. Punching someone is definitely not part of that, no matter the aggravation. Changmin keeps Yunho in his mind as he fights the urge to break the man’s hand for touching him. He does not question why he is feeling so vengeful and violent. His babies are silent within his body as if feeling their mama’s pent up rage and impotence at being unable to do anything about it.

All out of love.

He can practically feel eyes boring into the back of his head, and no doubt the thousands around the neighboring countries watching the broadcast should the cameras be showing him, but before he can speak up, someone beats him to it.

“Changmin.”

The voice is cold, and the former supermodel’s hackles raise in response at the familiar voice, body flushing as he recognizes that tone. His eyes convey nothing besides the anger he is still feeling at the actor in front of him even as the man finally moves back, snatching his hand quickly away from him, eyes wide as he gazes at something behind him.

Probably Death.

Death who has the wrong victim yet again. You would think that after the last couple of months, Yunho might have learned a thing or two. Oh yes, the young man knows that tone. It is that annoying as fuck tone that Yunho uses when he thinks Changmin needs to remember to behave while with company. It is a tone he almost never uses in private, but he does when they are with others, even the Parks.

Sometimes, the tone is conveyed with just his eyes, a mild reproach in warm almond eyes to tell his young wife to be patient.

Other times, the tone is conveyed in a not-so-gentle squeeze of his wrist or thigh when he feels the younger man stiffening in barely suppressed irritation next to him as yet another acquaintance drives him insane with their superficial babble.

And then there are times like this, when the tone is heavy with warning towards the supermodel.

This time it is absolutely uncalled for. What the fuck is he supposed to be warned about? To behave? To not punch the man in front of all these cameras even though he is uncomfortable and upset as fuck from the man’s proximity and forwardness?

And then there is not just the tone but the utter coldness of his voice that Yunho only reserves for when he is angry, and it is this additional layer that makes something inside him react.

Yunho is angry.

With him?

He is angry with Changmin. There can be no doubt since it is his name that falls from those lips so chillingly.

Why?

Taking in the actor hyung’s expression, Changmin knows his husband must be in enough of a mood that his anger is showing.

And this pisses him off even more. Time and time again, he is cautioned either by his husband, or internally by his own conscience, to behave in public. It is always at the forefront of his existence as Jung Yunho’s wife.

Behave appropriately.

And yet here is Yunho, probably looking like a thundercloud and breathing fire, and that is fine? One rule for Yunho and another rule for Changmin?

The teenager’s ire is roused further the more he thinks about it, and whatever control he ever had with regard to who he is and what he is, snaps. Keeping himself in check requires a measure of patience the pregnant young man does not have at that moment.

Not in the slightest.

Already upset from the liberties the actor hyung has taken with his person, Changmin’s reaction to the way his husband calls his name was inevitable when you think about how volatile he can be when irked.

Dinner plates come to mind.

This time there are no dinner plates.

But there is an annoying overreacting husband.

The young man grits his teeth, standing up as if to greet his newly arrived husband.

Several cameras are on them, and the editor of the program is struggling with the multiple calls from several executives instructing him to keep the cameras on the Jung couple rather than the extraordinarily boring baseball match.

The fulminating glare that Yunho is directing at the actor would cause any being to cower instantly. The normally convivial CEO is anything but, and the bright lights of the stadium show exactly how furious he is, for he does not bother to hide his anger.

Changmin watches as Yunho’s eyes literally chases away all the men that were once seated in his row.

One by one they all back away, unable to even look at the CEO, gathering their things nervously, as they take their leave, bowing as they go, their footsteps hurried and unsteady.

Yunho is here projecting malevolence to all and sundry, including to his wife, and Changmin stumbles slightly while moving towards his husband, but he is caught and held easily by the sure hands of the older man around his hips.

“Are you done making a spectacle of yourself?” Yunho is still seeing red around the edges, and while his expression appears somewhat mollified after the way all those men scuttle off with their tails between their legs, he is still not over his initial rage at finding the fool flirting with the former supermodel on a live broadcast with his hand on the teenager _and his children_ , while his young trophy wife doing sweet fuck all about it. What happened to the feisty boy he married?

“Was that really necessary, old man?” he chides, tone mocking, and if Yunho was paying closer attention, he would realize that Changmin’s eyes are sparking flames and he is more than ready to set him on fire.

Yunho finally turns, after the last male has practically tripped out of his sight, to look at his wife before leaning forward to press a hard kiss to his mouth. The stadium erupts at the very public display, but he does not notice, so intent on sealing his claim and reminding everyone as to whom the tall beauty belongs to. The kiss is bruising, possessive, heated by both anger and lust which is not returned in kind by the teenager.

Changmin notices the catcalling and the cheers from around him and he fights the angry flush he can feel raising up his neck. His hand fits between their bodies and he pushes his husband away without being too obvious about it. His fingers curls against the older man’s chest, nails dragging against the collar of his husband’s teeshirt and leaving a mark.

“I can’t leave you alone for even a couple of hours, can I? You invite trouble.”

“You don’t trust me?” Changmin challenges.

“Of course I do.”

“Then why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not—“

“Don’t lie to me,” Changmin snaps.

Yunho takes a step back, and a deep breath, and he finally sees his wife.

The crimson in his cheeks, the short breaths, the hell in his eyes.

And whatever residual anger he had with the actor transfers momentarily to his wife who had just snarled at him for no good reason. Yunho is not really mad at him. Irritated perhaps that his normally fiery teenager was behaving with reticence when he should have taken that man to task, but he was not actually angry. Changmin’s attack is pissing him off though, and he speaks without consideration.

“Why did you let him touch you?” Yunho asks harshly, eyes taking in the handsome teenager. He had wanted to hit the man, but instead he goes after his wife.

There is a short disbelieving pause, before Yunho gets his answer.

A hard punch to his jaw.

All he can see is his husband, and he is so done.

Yunho has done it again.

Again with the jealousy.

Again with the possessive rage.

Again with the fucking blame on the blameless teenager who did not react to the actor because of his love for his husband and his reputation.

Reputation be fucking done.

Changmin is so fucking done with it all.

The punch is hard, and Changmin’s knuckles hurt, but the hurt is deeper as he watches his husband take a step back, glasses knocked askew off his nose. His ears are blind to the collective roar for whoever is projecting the game on the main screens have them in their sights instead of the game still going on.

He is done.

“I am done with you.” Changmin steps back hand clawed in front of him, before making it into a fist and waving it in his unflinching and expressionless husband’s face. “So fucking done.”

The loudest connection between a ball and a baseball occurs just then, and there are half hearted cheers from whoever happened to have their eyes on the field instead of the big screens. When the screen flickers away from the tall couple staring down each other, the groans from the crowd are loud, only to change into cheers when a huge word is projected on the screen.

_*******HOME RUN******* _

—

Jiyong’s jaw is hanging open, while old man Lee is cackling as if he has just been told the funniest joke on the planet.

“That boy breathes fire alright. And to think you were worried about our boy and his impulses. He married someone with no impulse control whatsoever.”

The lawyer is lost for words, even more so when he realizes that in all the attention on Jung Yunho and his wife, they had failed to show the live occurrence of a home run.

No one watching will be forgetting this day anytime soon.

—

Yunho does not reply, breathing through his nose as he strives to calm down, righting his glasses. Changmin’s reaction was both a shock and yet, not. His jaw aches like hell and he can taste blood. A quick check of his lips finds a raw split spot in the left corner, and the metallic taste deepens as he aggravates the wound by touching it.

His wife has always been physical but never in public. The blow is sobering, because the last time Changmin punched him, his wife disappeared for a month. And yet despite that thought, Yunho is still angry. No longer annoyed about the man, for he does not spare any thought towards the two-bit actor, he is in fact, genuinely angry with his wife.

Unbelievably, Changmin comes at him again, but he sees the second fist coming and he grabs it in mid air, his grip anything but gentle as he stares into the blazing eyes of the younger man.

Changmin wrenches his hand back, the force of it hurting, but inside him hurts even more. The disgust, derision and hurt in his eyes is clear for all to see, taunting his husband with his words, for he is beyond reason.

_”Why did you let him touch you?”_

The words hammer at him, driving them into his skull, starting a pounding in his temple that only strives to inflame him even more.

The injustice of it all.

Always fucking shooting without checking.

“You’re fucking insane if you think I’m going to stay here and put up with your insanity. I’ve done everything I can to be a good wife, and yet no matter what I do, you still think the worst of me.”

“I didn’t—“

“Shut up,” Changmin growls. “You claim to have never lied to me, old man. Don’t fucking start now. Don’t fucking start.”

“Calm down,” Yunho orders quietly, holding out his hand, palm down, in a placating manner, eyes watching his wife carefully, also painfully mindful that cameras are pointing in their direction. Never in his wildest imagination would he ever picture his wife doing something like this. The pain in his jaw in increasing, serving as a physical reminder that his darling trophy wife just sucker punched him in front of cameras that are broadcasting the game on a cable channel. His actions may look conciliatory, but his eyes say otherwise.

Jung Yunho is furious.

The teenager throws back his head and laughs. The sound is grating on the ears for there is no joy in it. “Why?” He expands his arms to the stadium all around him. “Because all these people are watching? Why the fuck do you care? You wanted me to react to that man right? You wanted me to punch him for touching me? Well, let me tell you why I didn’t.” Changmin draws himself up to his full height before taking a step forward and stabbing Yunho in the chest with his finger. “It’s because I didn’t want _this_ ,” he hisses. “I didn’t want to cause a scene because I didn’t want you to be upset with me. Imagine that?”

His daughters decide to make their presence known then. Enough is enough, mama, they seem to be saying as both move in unison, caressing the teenager from within, and Changmin’s face crumbles instantly, closing his eyes. He sways on his feet, nausea and guilt rolling over him.

Yunho’s face is still stony, the tick in his jaw pronounced. He wants to speak to his wife, and he wants to deal with this, but not in public.

He knows he needs to get away. Changmin hates how he is feeling. Confused and dispossessed of his initial anger thanks to his daughters, he is miserable as the last few minutes replay over and over again in his head.

“Go away, Yunho. Just go away,” his plea is quiet, asking for understanding, though knowing full well he does not deserve the consideration. If the earth would just open and swallow him up right then, the teenager would welcome it with open arms.

He sees the change in the teenager, the defeated slope in his shoulders, but his eyes are closed to him. He has no idea what emotion they may hold, but Yunho knows he has fucked up. They both have. But this time, the fuck up is public and he refuses to soothe his wife with everyone’s eyes on them.

Taking his wife by the wrist, his grip is firm but a lot gentler than before, he turns to leave, pulling the teenager with him.

Predictably, the younger man struggles immediately.

Yunho stops, his wife crashing into him, the swell of his belly pressing against his abdomen. “Changmin, I’m not going without you. We’re already fodder for the public, but I am not going to humiliate you the way you just did to me by throwing you over my shoulder and walking out of here with every fucking camera on us, but if you don’t come quietly, I will do exactly that.”

Fully expecting another blow from his quiet words, Yunho tenses up, but nothing comes.

In fact, Changmin becomes exactly that.

Nothing.

—

Changmin follows, uncaring, unseeing.

It always seems to be the same thing.

Yunho’s bouts of possessiveness or jealousy has always colored their relationship from the start.

And the teenager never ever does anything purposeful to bring it on because Yunho can do that on his own without any help from anyone.

However this time, he is at least partially to blame.

He wanted Yunho to watch the game, because he wanted his husband to see him enjoying himself without him, and perhaps push him into coming to the game.

Changmin may know he is loved, but between his work and his wife, there are still times when he is unsure as to which Yunho will choose if asked to make a choice.

Not wanting to ask, he made the rash choice to play a very simple game of goading his husband into it because Yunho’s possessiveness over him was something very firmly established even before they were married.

If Changmin can depend on anything, it is Yunho’s need to possess him, and his total inability to share. The only person he tolerates is Jaejoong, and even that is due more to the fact that both his wife and the blond spitfire will more than likely take an actual bite out of him in places that will hurt, and body parts he will miss, if he tried to keep them apart.

And so he decided, for the first time in their relationship, to play a stupid game instead of speaking up like he normally would about anything else.

All because he wanted his husband to come to the baseball game with him like he said he would.

But games are never simple as his best friend Park Jaejoong can attest.

It becomes convoluted and crazy and by the end of it, whether you have reached your objective is one thing, the collateral casualties are another.

Actions propelled by anger.

Punches thrown in a blind fit of fury.

And words said in the heat of the moment that cannot be taken back.

This time it is worse for even though Jaejoong likes an audience, he has never had an audience like this, nor has he ever been mindless enough in his fits of pique to have done something on this scale.

Changmin has just humiliated his husband in front of thousands.

Thousands.

He knows he has gone too far this day, but he has no idea how to pull himself out of the mess he started.

The ache in his knuckles is a welcome pain and he focuses on it, trying his best to ignore the movement within him as his girls kick at their mama as if to scold him for being so silly. He is vaguely aware of Yunho speaking to someone, but he does not pay any attention, retreating within himself, he shuts everything out. All that anger has taken a great deal of energy from him, and he finds himself sapped of any strength, not even his strong will keeping him afloat.

Guilt and regret pour through him as he realizes the enormity of what he has done.

Yunho has a horrid way with words, and Changmin knows this.

Yunho has extreme reactions to Changmin interacting with over-friendly men, and Changmin knows this.

Yunho has an untainted image in the business world, a man many look up to, even those far older than him, and Changmin has just ruined this.

Impossible wife.

He keeps his eyes closed, not wanting to meet anyone’s eyes, least of all his husband’s, allowing the older man to guide him along. His thoughts turn decidedly wretched as he tries to remember any of their acquaintances doing anything even remotely scandalous.

Not even Heechul hyung has done something of this magnitude.

Changmin has no idea what to do.

Each step feels like he is walking towards his doom.

They finally stop, and he opens his eyes, finding himself in a large, rather pristine bathroom. The bar against the wall tells of its function as a disabled access bathroom, which explains the size.

His nose wrinkles in distaste, unaware that Yunho has stepped away and is standing across from him, observing the teenager.

“Not to your liking?”

The voice is still cold.

Changmin lifts his eyes from the dry white tiles, to look at his husband.

Yunho’s expression betrays nothing of his thoughts. His split lip is starting to swell a little, and Changmin’s belly churns at the sight, body shaking, he takes a step back to rest against the door. He feels dizzy with the warring factions within himself; half of him wanting to run to the older man, and the other half wanting to run away from him. The push and pull tugs at his body, his hand clenching and unclenching, a reflexive action reflecting of his inner turmoil. What makes it harder for him, is the fact that his children are kicking up one hell of a fuss in their small quarters within his body.

Tipping his head back, the teenager sags against the door, eyes leaving his husband’s face and dropping down the man’s body. He does not answer his husband’s taunt, forcing his thoughts inwards.

Yunho watches the rise and fall of his wife’s chest under his denim top. The buttons are undone enough to give him a tantalizing glimpse of smooth tanned skin, kept that way by Changmin’s swimming despite the cooler weather. His gaze travels lower to those short shorts, and stopping. His mouth tightens, pulling at the cut on his lip and the dull ache of his jaw is brought to the fore once again, highlighted by the inflammation of his wound. Remembering the hot flashes his wife had experienced before, Yunho wisely chooses not to comment on the shorts.

However he does speak, not wanting to soothe just yet for Changmin crossed a line that day, and he needs to know if the teenager understands it.

“I give you a lot of rope---”

“To hang from?”

Yunho straightens, eyes narrowing on the teenager who has now closed his eyes, head tilted back. “I have crushed men for less than the insolence you are showing me.”

“Then crush me.”

The older man pushes away from the wall, striding across, he moves his wife bodily from the door.

Changmin’s eyes fly open, just in time to see his husband walking out.

“Wh-where are you going?”

“Leaving you,” Yunho spits out, not bothering to turn around. He is not feeling accommodating enough to deal with his willful wife, mistaken in the belief that taking Changmin somewhere private would help. It does not, for the teenager is not ready to talk, and Yunho is not feeling kind enough to bend to the teenager’s will and coax it out of him.

Not this time, as memories of the punch and the flashes from the cameras burn brightly in his mind’s eye. Changmin’s behavior has been absolutely atrocious and for the most part, uncalled for. The teenager has to learn that no matter the intention, there are consequences to his behavior especially in public, and Yunho refuses to protect his wife from it this time. He is truly angry, and does not want to speak to the almost twenty-year old in such a state because when Changmin gets defensive, he throws barbs with absolutely no care whatsoever, and Yunho knows himself well enough that it is better for him to give both of them some breathing space first, and then seek to reconcile later.

Maybe a few days later.

He gives the younger man a lot of fucking rope. In private, Yunho allows his wife to push him, amused by the teenager’s attempts to dominate whether in the bedroom or out of it. Their clashes always end in a pleasurable manner though, for Yunho is always far more amused than angered by anything the headstrong teenager does. He knows it is a form of insecurity, a way for Changmin to protect himself, and even after their mutual avowals of love, he knows his wife will come round in his own time, and Yunho does not want to push back. The way they started their marriage would make anyone insecure, and Yunho himself acknowledges that his fits of possessiveness are his own response to the way they began. He is definitely trying to work on it, but that actor had really gone too far. Not knowing the man’s name, he had called out Changmin’s name instead, but his focus had always been solely on the fool who had dared to touch his wife.

Yunho’s patience will always be endless for Changmin, but today is one of those days where the teenager has pushed hard enough that something has to give, and Yunho is walking away before he makes it worse.

There is difficult.

And then there is Changmin.

Changmin’s eyes widen, legs moving as his mind struggles to catch up with the words. He opens his mouth to call out, unwilling to believe his husband is actually walking away from him.

But his throat catches, unable to make a sound as Yunho strides further and further away, and his stomach lurches in confused shock, never expecting this.

He has always pushed.

And Yunho has always been patient.

Everyone has an end point though.

And Changmin has clearly reached it.

Dizzy with emotional exhaustion and physical fatigue, energy sapped from his body completely, his brain flatly refusing to acknowledge what is happening, let alone accept it.

The teenager’s next breath leaves him with a hiss, and he is unable to draw his next breath fully as panic slowly sets in. Fingers curl, his nails scraping the wall behind him as he struggles with the pain of it all, shaking his head, still unable to comprehend what is happening.

Yunho claims to have never lied to him.

And yet, he is leaving him.

His pregnant wife.

His love.

Has it all been a lie?

Changmin’s breathing is choppy, starting to hyperventilate as the enormity of what is happening hits him.

Yunho is leaving him.

Not even when he had left his husband and asked for a divorce did he feel like this. The confusion is wrecking him from within, because while his brain rationalizes that Yunho’s actions are quite fair considering what Changmin has done to him, his heart refuses to accept it. His broken heart weeping the tears that the teenager seems unable to shed in his state of shock. A heart weeping for a loss he cannot in all his young life, understand.

One of the twins, as if frustrated by her parent’s inability to sort himself out or even to think clearly, deals a punch or two of her own.

Taken by surprise at the ferocity, Changmin doubles over, his body curving inward in an attempt to protect himself. A well placed foot floors him, and this time his voice is loud and true, echoing down the hallway after the livid form of his husband.

“Yunho!” The sound is sharp, and pained.

The Jung CEO halts just at the end of the corridor, digging into his pocket, he calls for his car before pocketing it and pivoting around slowly to face his wife.

_Yunho’s biggest secret is that he has no end point when it comes to Changmin._

_The difficult former supermodel can push all he wants._

_He will never reach the end._

_Yunho is possessive as hell, he is at times quick to anger, and his judgment may fail him when he so blinded by what he perceives is the truth._

_But there will never be an end point._

_For there is no end for him._

_There is only Changmin._

Changmin’s crumpled form has the man running without a second thought, the sight obliterating everything for him, including any trace of anger and frustration.

—

“Home,” Yunho barks at his driver who is trying to conceal his shock at seeing his employer carrying his pregnant wife bridal style.

Changmin shakes his head. “No,” he manages to get out. His first word since his episode by the bathroom.

“No?” Yunho lowers himself easily into the town car, careful not to bang his wife’s head.

“I just want to sit in the car.”

“We can sit in the car on the way home.”

“No,” Changmin shakes his head stubbornly, clinging to his husband.

Yunho makes an exasperated sound but after the scare the teen just gave him, he is willing to do anything. “All right. Please park the car where you had it.”

“Yes, sir,” the driver nods smartly, carefully shutting the door.

Silence falls between the couple in the back seat.

Changmin’s head is bowed, staring at his husband’s bicep, the material of his tee shirt straining around the bulging muscle. Yunho isn’t bulky, but the teeshirt is definitely form fitting enough. The older man’s trench coat is around him, his anxiety outside the bathroom turning him into a shivering, shaking mess. Yunho had sat with him in his lap for long minutes, mouth against his clammy skin as he calms him down.

_”Changmin…Changmin…love, calm down. Calm down, baby. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. Baby, you need to breathe, come on listen to my count. One, two, inhale… One, two, exhale… One, two, three, inhale… One, two, three, exhale… I love you, baby. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”_

“I love you, too…” the teenager whispers, fingers wrapping around Yunho’s strong upper arm. “I’m so sorry…so sorry for ruining you…”

Yunho tips Changmin’s chin up to face him, expression serious as he stares into the contrite bambi eyes slowly pooling with tears.

“You did not ruin me.”

“But I—“

“You behaved really badly, yes. Changmin, I know I should be the last person to lecture you on this, but we will need to help each other out here otherwise this will not be the last time a blow up happens. You cannot go swinging first and asking questions later no matter how angry you are.”

The teenager tries to move away from his husband’s hold of his chin, but Yunho’s touch is firm yet gentle. The older man shakes his head at him.

“I know,” he finally replies. A huge part of him wants to argue, but a smaller but louder part of him is telling him to shut up and pick his battles. He provoked this battle to begin with, and he should accept the blame instead of trying to use his husband as an excuse for his reaction. “This is my fault.”

Yunho sighs, shaking his head. “You’re still too young if you think I care about who is at fault. We both had a part to play in this. We need to learn to stop and talk first.” His brow furrows, “and if you’re really angry with me for whatever reason, please wait till we’re alone before you decide to slug me. You’ve got a mean right hook.”

Changmin reaches up, finger grazing the cut on his husband’s lip gently. “I wasn’t thinking,” he admits. “I wanted to hit him for the longest time, and when you asked me why—“ he stops, choking on his words, closing his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Yunho speaks simply, gathering Changmin up tighter in his arms and kissing the beautiful young man’s ear. “I’m sorry.”

The teenager shakes his head. “Don’t apologize,” he whispers. “I can’t bear it.“ The justice loving part of Changmin refuses to allow him to keep his peace and allow his husband to continue apologising. “I did start this. I asked you to watch the game, and I purposefully engaged with him and his friends more than I normally would because I knew you were watching. I wanted you to come to the game.”

“Changmin…why didn’t you just ask?” Yunho struggles to keep his voice level at his wife’s confession. What is this insanity?

The silence stretches between them as the teenager struggles. He struggles with himself, not wanting to give more of himself than he has to, but this is his husband. He is already hiding one big secret from the man, and it pains him whenever he remembers, but that ship sailed and there is no real way to bring it up without hurting both of them, and Changmin is already feeling too much to want to feel more than he has to. Yet this struggle is one he deals with almost every day. Pride commands him more than he cares to admit, hiding behind that superficial shield in the mistaken belief that it will help protect him somehow.

Protect him from what?

From whom?

His husband? This is the man who is supposed to love him. A man who whispered an unending litany of I love yous to him as he cradled him protectively, wanting to help ease whatever pain Changmin was going through. Pain that he may have inflicted unknowingly, and yet Changmin cannot allow Yunho to continue thinking that way.

A man who has never lied to him.

Changmin chooses to believe.

“I was afraid,” he finally speaks, voice so soft that Yunho actually has to lean forward, straining to catch his wife’s words. “I was afraid you would say no, and that it would hurt.”

“Changmin,” Yunho admonishes, his name coming out in a heartfelt whoosh. “You are so young, dear god,” he tugs the quiet teenager closer, hugging him tightly, speaking against his hair. “You cannot run away from life or disappointments. God knows if it’s within my power to give, I will give it to you, but you cannot look at the world in black and white like that. I am not trying to hurt you by saying no. I am not loving you any less if I say no. You have to understand that no does not equate to rejection and therefore you should hurt from it. I won’t tell you to stop feeling hurt, because that is a natural part of life, but you shouldn’t actively avoid it out of fear of the feeling either. Hurting means you are alive. It means you have feelings, and most importantly…” Yunho trails off.

“Most importantly?”

“It means that you love me…”

“Do you ever question it?”

“Every day.”

Changmin pulls away to look at his husband whose eyes are glittering in the dimmed confines of the car. It has started to rain outside, a rather heavy downpour, making the inside of the town car darker than usual in the late afternoon.

“Every day?”

“Changdola,” Yunho’s smile is wistful. “Do you know how much you fight with me? Sometimes for no reason at all that I can comprehend? When we come together at the end of the fight, I have to believe that you feel something for me. If anyone knew what you were like behind closed doors, I’m sure they would believe you hated me.”

“Do…do you believe that?” Changmin’s remorse is practically suffocating him.

Yunho’s smile widens. “Not at work.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I look at the strawberries on my desk, at the little notes in my bag and drawers to remind me to eat, and the packets of gastric medication accompanying those notes…” he pauses, love and affection in his voice that light up his eyes, making him look younger than his thirty-five years. “How regardless of what time I wake, I always have my suit laid out for me in our closet, and that I look forward to lunch at work because I like the surprises you send my way regularly. The way over the last two years, sparkling water has been replaced by still water, and I find the bottles everywhere you think I might need it.”

Changmin is blushing, blooms of pink that stand out even against his tanned skin, his ears showing the color the most.

“I am constantly reminded how much you care when I’m at work.”

“But not at home.”

“Not _always_ at home,” Yunho amends.

Changmin internalizes his husband’s words.

As the quiet stretches, Yunho kisses his wife’s cheek. “You don’t have to say anything, love. Wondering if you love me when I’m home should keep me on my toes at least.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

Yunho shrugs, “If I truly believed you didn’t love me, it would bother me. But those moments of insecurity are for me to deal with, not you. I’m not going to tell you how to show your love.”

“What are we going to do about today?” Changmin decides to change the subject. He needs to examine this conversation in greater detail later in the quiet of their home, preferably after some horizontal…cuddling.

“Nothing,” Yunho’s mouth tightens imperceptibly, but he relaxes almost immediately when Changmin drops his forehead against his.

“People will say you cannot control your wife.”

“Can I?” Yunho questions ruefully, causing his wife to smile and kiss his mouth before drawing back.

“If I say yes?”

“Then it’s me who’ll be calling you a liar.”

Changmin’s smile fades away. “Do you want to control me?”

“No.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Yunho’s smile is crooked, speeding Changmin’s pulse up at the promise in his eyes. “Occasionally, it would be nice to have some control in the bedroom.”

“What about now?”

“What about now?” Yunho parrots.

“Do I have to ask?”

“I think I’d prefer a bit of begging myself.”

Yunho’s hand slips down the front of his wife’s top, over the gentle swell of his belly, to fall against the hardness pressing against the seam of his short shorts. “These shorts are indecent.”

“Then make me soil them so I have to change before returning to the game.”

“You still want to go to the game?”

“I have to be your perfect trophy wife.”

“I don’t need perfection.”

“But I do,” Changmin replies honestly. “For you.”

“Changmin…”

“My itty bitty shorts are still clean…”

Yunho growls in response, unzipping his wife’s shorts expertly as he claims his mouth.

Changmin’s cock is already full and ripe, his body so attuned to Yunho, responding readily to the man. The love suffusing Yunho’s voice as he explained why he feels loved while at work had caused the teenager’s body to react immediately, loving the man back in a way much more familiar to him. Changmin’s body has always betrayed his true feelings when it comes to his husband. While it had started off as lust, it did not stay as lust for very long.

The teenager’s returning kiss is unhurried, slowing Yunho’s pace, and yet the older man finds that his young wife’s body is just as responsive, as if they were clawing and tearing each other’s clothes off. Changmin’s breath stutters when he thumbs his slit, spreading the precum around, his moan sweet and low against his mouth, and yet the kiss remains gentle.

It takes Yunho a good few minutes to realize why.

His cut lip. Changmin is trying not to hurt him more than he already has, and the realization of it heals the wound more than anything else ever can.

Changmin can feel the warmth of Yunho’s skin beneath his teeshirt and it both titillates and frustrates him that there is still clothing between them. Their kisses are intensifying the ache in his belly and the pressure mounds, yet he feels no urgency to seek release. They could have kissed for hours, kissing in slow motion, the brush of their lips gentler than it has ever been between them, and yet, just as perfect. The normally vocal Jung Changmin nowhere to be found as the teenager shudders closer to his climax as his husband works his hand expertly over him, knowing when to speed up and when to slow down, driving the young man mindless. The gentle way Changmin guides their mouths is something so new that the focus is on their kisses, uncharacteristically soft questing pleasures to be had as they taste each other and make silent promises of more.

Yunho is enjoying the breathless gasps and helpless shifts of movement as his wife gets closer, completely attuned to every tremor that racks his body and the difference in his breathing when Yunho’s hand does something he particularly likes.

When Changmin finally comes, it is a quiet shudder as he clenches his eyes shut with their foreheads against each other, breaths mingling.

“I think you’re going to have to carry me back to the stands.”

“When my body calms down,” Yunho wipes his hand on the front of Changmin’s shorts, ruining them beyond any doubt. Most of his wife’s release had ended up on his belly and he mentally apologizes to his kids.

“We can—“

“No. I’d rather wait till we got home.”

“Such a purist.”

“What can I say? I’m an old man.” He picks up Changmin’s hand and presses a soft kiss into his palm in mute supplication that makes Changmin’s heart ache. “I still don’t think I had any control here.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” Changmin replies with serene smile.

Yunho’s laughter is loud enough that it makes the driver in the front smile when he hears it.

—

Despite his relaxed pose and his gorgeous wife in his lap, Yunho’s jaw is set taut, his chin tilted with authority and a fair amount of possessive arrogance. Even dressed in a simple tee shirt, he exudes an aura of dynamic power and presence that fairly _demands_ that people look at him and take note.

For the umpteenth time that day, the cameramen are susceptible to that demand, and the big screen pans away from the baseball pitch towards the VIP stands, focusing on the couple who had just regained their seats, zooming in on the formidable man’s face, catching the very moment when his expression changes.

Zooming out, everyone sees his pregnant trophy wife with a hand against his husband’s chest, whispering something no doubt titillating into his ear if his expression is anything to go by. Jung Changmin is not delicate at all by any stretch of the imagination, and the sucker punch he had landed on the Jung mogul is still at the forefront of everyone’s memories. The 180 degree change in the willowy brunette though is rather startling.

Colour high in his cheeks, the former supermodel is glowing as he continues to whisper into his husband’s ear, while his husband’s answering smirk is one of masculine satisfaction, arms tight around the gorgeous teenager. There is no doubt in everyone’s mind what happened during their interlude, for the teenager is dressed in jeans and his husband’s trench coat. Belted at the waist, it still exposes the boy’s bare chest.

“I think you should hope for another home run, love.”

“Why?”

“No one is ever going to forget a punch like that.”

Changmin frowns, before a wicked smirk tugs at his lips, not unlike the one his husband is wearing. “What do you think will make them forget it?”

“I don’t dare answer that question,” Yunho chuckles. “I can see your thoughts from here. Do remember I work with a lot of old men, and they may not—”

Yunho is cut off by a hot mouth against his as his incorrigible wife moves to slip astride the virile man, pressing wantonly into him as he deepens the kiss.

—

“I think I need to find myself a trophy wife.”

Jiyong’s answering groan is thoroughly heartfelt.

—

Changmin fights a wave of nausea as he straightens Minah’s top, wondering to himself once again why in the bloody hell he is doing this. His gorgeous toddlers are dressed in LG Twins onesies and matching white tights, looking too adorable to be real, complete with tiny baseball caps and shoes. Shining eyes are gazing out towards the path that leads from the locker rooms to the field outside, where a capacity crowd is waiting for the special guests for the afternoon.

Twenty months after the memorable episode where the people in the stadium cared more about a certain couple in the VIP stands, than the game going on out on the field.

The invite had come from the stadium and LG twins managers, both of whom were present at that original game.

_”Your daughters are old enough…”_

_“Do you think you would consider having them throw the first pitch?”_

_“It would give everyone a great memory…”_

A less sensational memory they meant, and it was never actually said, but Changmin heard it all the same.

Resistent at first, concerned about the crowd and how his daughters might react, it was Yunho who had convinced him that everything will be ok.

Fucking liar.

Even his body knows it. In the week leading up to the game, Changmin has been fighting some terrible bug determined to make his life miserable. Anxious over the idea of presenting his twins to the country for the first time, his worry has manifested physically and he’s been sick pretty much every single day.

Yunho was not as sympathetic as he had expected, laughing the whole thing off and telling Changmin that he is making himself sick, and to stop being silly.

Well, he has not spoken to his husband in over two days after that tactless comment. Something definitely very easy to do since the man is in Japan on business anyway.

“Papa!”

“Papa isn’t here,” Changmin growls, his tone more for the absent man and his thoughts than his child.

Yoona’s brow furrows in confusion, gazing over the shoulder of the man crouching next to her. “Papa here,” she counters firmly, not at all bothered by her mama’s grouchy tone.

Changmin bristles, feeling the man’s presence in that instance, just a split second before a warm hand rests on his shoulder.

The wave of nausea from earlier come back with a vengeance, and without a word, Changmin stands up, shaking off the heavy hand as he makes a beeline for the closest bathroom.

Yunho stares after his wife, wanting to go after him, but of course he cannot. He sighs, taking off his sunglasses and hooking them on his back pocket before turning his attention back to his daughters.

“Mama sick.” Minah wrinkles her nose and sticks out her tongue and makes retching sounds.

Yoona makes a face at her sister and stares balefully up at her recently absent father. “Mama better now?”

The Jung CEO crouches down to meet his daughters at eye level. “I’ll make mama better, but first, don’t I get kisses?”

Both girls grin, throwing themselves into their father’s arms and planting loud sloppy kisses on his cheeks, giggling as they do so.

Yoona draws back first, gazing at her father with eyes so like her mama, the intelligence behind them unmistakable. “Mama better now?”

“Yes.” Minah nods solemnly, agreeing with her sister. “Mama better now.”

“Mama better now!”

“Now, now, now!”

“Mama is not better,” Changmin manages to croak out, hand over his churning belly, eyes wet from the effort of throwing up nothing but water and bile.

Yunho stands up with his daughters in his arms, turning to face his wife, concern coming over his features instantly when he sees how wan the tall supermodel looks.

“Changdola, you really are sick.”

“No, I’m just being silly,” Changmin retorts, remembering Yunho’s words before he left for Japan.

“Changmin.”

There is that tone again.

Changmin cocks his head. “Really? You want to do this now?”

“Mama.” “Papa.”

Twin voices speaking in unison, imitating their father’s tone and their mama’s expression perfectly.

Both parents chuckle, but the words remain unsaid between them, eyes speaking, one pair questioning, the other dismissing.

—

The crowd goes absolutely wild as the gorgeous twin toddlers walk out onto the pitch. Stupified for a moment at the blast of sound, both girls turn immediately to cling to their mama’s legs, staring in wonder at the crowd around them. Their actions draw a resounding coo from those watching, and a flutter of commentary from the commentator’s box.

_”Those girls are going to be heartbreakers.”_

_“Modeling is definitely in their future. They’re so tall for their age.”_

_“How old do you think they are?”_

_“Jung Changmin was pregnant with them the last time he was here and—“_

_“Oh yes, that was rather memorable…”_

Similar conversations are flowing around the stadium, many of whom remember the spectacular blowup between Jung Yunho and his wife, whose angry exchange was immortalized on television and remembered especially for the fact that due to the cameras being more interested in them, an LG Twins home run was missed.

Changmin manages to coax his daughters away from his legs, clasping their hands together and nudging them ahead of him. He follows, smiling automatically as the flashes go off, his mind on something far more important, his smile never reaching his eyes. He feels like he is an automaton at a photoshoot, and he is going to keep smiling even if it kills him. No longer anxious about his daughters, he is now anxious about something else.

The girls walk hand in hand, their parents bringing up their rear, a little more confident than when they first started. Not at all daunted by the flashes, used to it for they are a staple presence at their mama’s photoshoots, they are more unnerved by the noisiness of it all. However, their mama and papa are both behind them, and in their eighteen months of life, this always means that nothing will happen to them. Getting through one parent might be possible, but nobody on the planet would be able to get to them with both parents standing guard.

Minah considers asking for milk right then for she suddenly feels hungry, but her sister’s tugging on her hand makes her forget her brief thought as they reach the mound and are given baseballs.

Yunho wraps his arm around his wife’s waist, eyes not leaving his daughters as the LG Twins’ pitcher crouches to speak to them. Taking after their mama, the twins are very intelligent and interact quite willingly when they feel like it. More concerned about his wife’s reticence though, Yunho finally turns towards the younger man. He presses a kiss against the Changmin’s ear before leaning back slightly, whispering softly.

“Changdola, I’m truly sorry for dismissing your anxiety. Look at your girls. Our girls. They’re doing so well. There was nothing to worry about, love. They are very resilient, just like you.”

Changmin steps into his husband, pressing himself against the man’s side as he fights to keep the smile on his face, and his tears from overwhelming him.

“Changmin?”

His husband’s gentle hand against his side, and concerned voice breaks the facade, and the younger man’s smile falters on his lips.

The first pitch, thrown rather well by Yoona to the appreciative roars of the crowd, is completely missed by both her parents as Changmin, once again behaving uncharacteristically at an LG Twins game, turns into the circle of his husband’s arms and presses his face against his cheek.

The twins are oblivious, enjoying the electric mood of the crowd and the fact that they get to throw balls with an appreciative audience. Tom boys to some extent thanks to their Park playmate, this is definitely right up their alley and takes their complete attention.

“Love, what’s the matter? I won’t make fun of you again.”

“Liar,” Changmin murmurs quietly, squeezing his eyes shut, hands clutching desperately at his husband. He is fully aware of where they are, but he does not care. His final trip to the bathroom before walking out had him confirming a niggling suspicion.

“Ok,” Yunho amends. “I won’t make fun of you again today. Babe, talk to me. You’re starting to worry me. Is something wrong?”

“I’m pregnant,” Changmin replies simply.

Yunho is deaf to the laughter of the crowd at his children’s antics, both arms now wrapped around his wife, hugging him tightly as he processes the information.

The camera is on Minah now as she gets ready to throw her ball. There was a brief squabble because Yoona wanted another throw, and they were only mollified when the pitcher promised another throw each, making it two throws.

Minah had argued at that point, asking for a third throw.

Helpless, the pitcher had agreed, much to the amusement of the crowd and his teammates, the large man so easily wrapped around the tiny fingers of the two beautiful little girls.

Yunho remembers the first time Changmin told him he was pregnant.

_“I’m pregnant you fucking idiot.”_

The second time goes along a similar vein.

_“I do think I’m pregnant you fucking idiot.”_

This is the third time.

And he can hear the fear in his young wife’s voice.

“So soon?”

Changmin’s helpless laughter is nothing more than a watery gurgle as tears prick his eyes. He hates that he feels this way. He hates that he had to find out just before coming out in front of all these people. He hates that he has no fucking idea what to do. And the feeling he hates the most is how he does not want this again. Not again.

“We’re not having sex ever again.”

“Changmin…”

“Yunho, I can’t.”

“It’ll be ok.”

“You cannot know that.”

Yunho pulls back and nudges his wife’s jaw up towards him gently, his heart hurting at the unshed tears swimming in the other man’s eyes. As he watches, one sole tear slides out, and he thumbs it away quickly, before reaching behind him to pull out the sunglasses he had pocketed earlier. He offers them to the supermodel who smiles gratefully, putting them on immediately, hiding his hurt from the world.

The twenty-one year old is taller than his husband, but somehow as only Jung Changmin manages when it comes to his husband, he folds himself against the much older man in such a way that he appears smaller.

Yunho rubs his lips against his wife’s temple, murmuring soothing words as the crowd cheers around them yet again at something one or both his daughters had done.

_”What do you think is going on with them?”_

_“Trouble in paradise again?”_

_“Not with the way Jung Changmin is clinging to his husband. They’re not even watching their children.”_

_“It’s been a while since we’ve seen him like that._

_“Yes, the last time was when they were both here.”_

_“That was certainly a day to remember.”_

“It will be ok.”

“Old man, not even you can be sure of that.”

“Even if you have to be stuck in bed for the next…how far along are you?”

“Don’t be stupid! It cannot be more than three months because—”

Yunho kisses his wife on the mouth to stop him finishing the sentence, deepening the kiss to the appreciative roars of the crowd who are now paying their full attention to the statuesque couple as their twins finally finish with their _five_ throws each.

When he draws back, he can see the smudges on his Raybans, and the rueful quirk of his wife’s lips tell him that Changmin is momentarily ok.

“It will be ok.”

“You can repeat that a million times, and you can never be sure.”

“I have never lied to you.”

The quiet conviction in Yunho’s voice cuts through everything logical in Changmin’s head.

Rationally, he knows there is no way his husband can guarantee that everything will be ok.

But he believes him anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> That "epilogue" of sorts was always part of the storyline and their lives but again, it wasn’t meant to really come out here. I will address that second occurrence in a later oneshot...
> 
> Also, the summary doesn’t really fit the second half of the fic because I actually had this going another way. It was supposed to be a simple case of Changmin provoking Yunho, Yunho storming into the stadium, and then they have a lovely “battle” in the bathroom AHEM. However, simple plans…nothing is ever simple with these two and it ran away from me so I apologise. I am a slave to my muse...truly, madly, deeply.


End file.
